


your hands and lips still know their way around

by seijoh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Five Years Later, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Linear Narrative, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Time Skips, Weddings, my story in one sentence: breaking up waking up making up, this is unedited rip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 14:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11210403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seijoh/pseuds/seijoh
Summary: it must be true about what they say about liquid courage, because kageyama suddenly speaks up. “why didn’t we work out? we were so good together, and then….and then nothing. why—” his voice cracks, and he takes a moment to focus on not breaking down. “why did you have to leave?”or, the au where kageyama sees hinata at daichi and sugawara’s wedding and decides that maybe he doesn't want to be hinata’s ex anymore.





	your hands and lips still know their way around

**Author's Note:**

> title: "talk me down" by troye sivan  
> [tumblr version](http://ka-geyama.tumblr.com/post/161869474732/your-hands-and-lips-still-know-their-way-around)  
>  _unedited_

The invitation to the wedding comes in a crème colored envelope edged with gold details, his name and address written across the front of it in calligraphy kanji so fancy that Kageyama barely recognizes it as his own. It’s classical and elegant, printed on a thick sheet of cardstock, and he thinks with an almost imperceptible smile that Sugawara-senpai must’ve been the one to choose it. A smaller sheet of paper falls out with the invite, and Kageyama hesitates for a moment before picking it up. It’s handwritten in black ink in a messy scrawl he hasn’t seen in a long time.

_Hope you’ll be able to make it, Kageyama-kun! It’s been awhile since the all crows have gotten together. -Kōshi_

Kageyama turns the paper over, hoping to find answers to the questions flitting through his mind at a mile per minute. The one that seems to recur most often, however, is one he already knows. _Will Hinata be there?_ Because of course Daichi and Sugawara invited Shōyō to their wedding. The more rational side of Kageyama tells him that it’ll be an awkward affair filled with his longing glances and Hinata’s attempts to ignore him, that it’ll end like their relationship—with the both of them hurting and in tears.

With a small sigh and a pang in his chest, Kageyama puts the card back inside of the envelope, lays it on his kitchen counter, and leaves for volleyball practice.

* * *

_“Uh….Hey, Kageyama?” Hinata says, his eyes pointedly looking at the clock above Tobio’s head. Then at the school building’s brick wall. Then at the grass underneath their feet. Really, anywhere_ except _for Kageyama._

_He waits for a few seconds for Hinata to start speaking again once it’s obvious that the orange-haired ace of Karasuno has Kageyama’s attention. Then, after the silence stretches longer than necessary, he clicks his tongue. “Tch. Just say it, baka.”_

_“Do you, uh, wanttogodosomethingtogetheronFriday?” Hinata asks, eyes wide with excitement and his palms sweaty with the anticipation of rejection._

_Kageyama blinks. With the way Hinata had mumbled the last part of his question together, the setter hadn’t been able to fully understand what he’d said. But if Hinata had said what Kageyama thought he had…._

_The red flush on Hinata’s face gradually gets more aggressive with Kageyama’s silence, and he shakes his head. “Actually, you know what? Nevermind. It’s nothing. Forget I—”_

_While he’s never been particularly lucky in games of chance, Kageyama plays one of the biggest gambles of his life. He smashes their lips together, and he can’t help but think that Hinata smells like oranges and tastes a little bit like the donut he’d had earlier. It’s awkward—their noses keep bumping into each other, their teeth collide more than once—but it’s perfect because it’s_ Hinata _._

_“Hell yeah! You owe me a hundred Yen, Ryu. I told you it’d be their second year.”_

_With a start, they break apart and find Nishinoya and Tanaka standing nearby with matching shit-eating grins. Or rather, a disgruntled Tanaka handing cash over to his best friend while Noya smiles with a sort of giddiness that’s akin to one the libero wears when eating Garigari-Kun._

_“Really guys?” Tanaka sighs, though it’s obvious there aren’t any real hard feelings by the way his lips are slightly upturned. “You couldn’t have waited until next year?”_

_Kageyama’s face burns, but Hinata bounces with joy and says, “Sorry guys, but we have to go. I have a date on Friday!”_

* * *

Playing on Japan’s national volleyball team was both an exhilarating experience and an exhausting one. With the coach’s grueling training menu and the odd hours, it was demanding, and if Kageyama Tobio didn’t enjoy playing so much, he might’ve quit long ago. However, his love for volleyball didn’t cancel out the fact that he definitely still had bad days and people still pissed him off.

His phone buzzed from inside his pocket, and with a slight frown on his face, Kageyama read the caller ID. _Iwaizumi Hajime._

Immediately swiping right, he puts it next to his ear. “Iwaizumi-senpai?”

He could practically _see_ the face Iwaizumi made through the phone, scrunched-up nose and a gathering of wrinkles on his forehead, at the honorific. “Don’t call me that, Tobio-kun. It makes me sound old.”

“I—uh— _gomen_ , Hajime-kun,” he replies, pushing open the door. “What did you need?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other side of the line, and it’s long enough that it makes Kageyama glance at the screen just to be sure that the call hadn’t accidentally cut off. “I just,” Iwaizumi sighs, “wanted to make sure you were alright. The, uh, invitations to Kōshi’s wedding arrived in the mail and, knowing him, they probably sent it to… You know…”

The former ace of Aobajohsai trails off, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’d meant to say. It’s the same name that’s been bouncing off the walls of his mind ever since Kageyama had opened that envelope, been in his head ever since they’d split. (It was odd to think of them as separate entities now that high school was over. They’d always been together even if they weren’t _together_ , and he had very few memories that he liked where they weren’t. It’d always been Karasuno’s freak _duo_ , but now Kageyama is all alone.)

“ _Hinata_ ,” he fills in for Iwaizumi, “You can say his name. It’s not like it bothers me or anything, Hajime-kun.”

But _it does_ , and the feeling of saying Shouyou name out loud again feels like a breath of fresh air after running a marathon or a drink of cold water after practice. It’s salvation in the hell he’s been living, and it’s an oasis in a desert. The bittersweet feeling starts low in his stomach and slowly crawls up his spine and down his arms until he’s tingling with the entire sensation.

“Um, okay.” There’s rustling and the sound of a door opening on Iwaizumi’s side, and a loud voice carries through whatever room he must be in. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. Tooru's home.”

“ _Hai_.”

“You know,” Iwaizumi starts, “he won’t say anything, especially to your face, but Tōru’s been worried about you. _We’re_ worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” It tastes sour, like the prefabricated lie that’s been sitting on the back of his tongue that it is. He owes Hajime more than this, more than half-baked falsehoods, and adds, “I _will_ be fine, at least.”

“Alright. Just, uh, make sure to call if you need anything, Tobio,” he replies, “Keep in touch?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

_A bright smile on his face, Hinata laughs into the sleeve of Kageyama’s jacket as they walk to school. It was too long, reaching halfway down his thigh and the sleeves drooping over his short arms, making the orange-haired ace look even smaller than usual. Kageyama can’t help the small upturn of his lips when he thinks of a pocket-sized Hinata slotting perfectly inside the palm of his hand._

_“You should do that more often,” Hinata says, wide-eyed and serious as he glances at Kageyama’s face from the corner of his eye._

_He clicks his tongue, more out of habit than any real exasperation. “What do you mean?”_

_“_ Smile _,” Hinata replies with a blinding grin, “You look cuter.”_

_The blush flares on Kageyama’s face, spreading from the tips of his ears and painting his nose and cheeks with an obvious pink. “D—don’t just say things like that, dumbass!”_

* * *

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Kageyama buries his face further into his light blue scarf, shielding more of his face from the biting winds, and walks the two blocks from his apartment to a tiny café squished between two other department stores. It’s heated, thankfully enough, and well-lit. Several tables litter the interior, arranged in a strict, symmetrical pattern around the room. He scans the room and moves toward the blonde figure sitting near the back.

“ _Konnichiwa, Yacchan_ ,” he mumbles, unwrapping the pale blue material from around his neck. “How’s work?”

Her face immediately lights up, and Yachi shoots him a megawatt smile. “It’s great! Thanks for asking. My boss is a bit intimidating, but Shimizu-kun says that if I was able to handle you and Hinata for three years, it should be pretty easy in comparison.”

She laughs softly, like a gentle breeze in early spring, and for some reason, it makes Kageyama think of pink cherry blossoms. The ends of his lips quirk up, though he tries his best not to grimace at the mention of his ex. He wonders if Yachi knows how badly they’d both screwed each other over in the end, how sharp the bladed words they’d thrown at each other actually wore, and decides that it’d probably only hurt her if he told.

“Any new designs?” he asks, settling into the padded black armchair across from her.

Yachi nods excitedly, her hair falling into her face slightly with the movement. It was longer than when they’d been in high school but still only brushed her shoulders. “There’s this one where the sleeves are cut slightly off so that— Oh! Here, wait. It’d be easier to show you.”

As the blonde reaches into her messenger bag, one of the waitresses walks up to them. “ _Konnichiwa!_ Would you like anything?”

Yachi gets a watermelon bubble tea and some French macarons. Kageyama opts for simplicity instead. “Black coffee, one sugar, please.”

Talking to Yachi is easy, like breathing or setting a ball, and while he smiles and mumbles jokes under his breath that make her crack a grin, it does nothing to patch the gaping emptiness pitting his stomach wide open. It’s not the _same_. Nothing ever is anymore. And Kageyama doesn’t expect it to be. Besides, there’s probably only one person who could make things alright, and that boy has seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth.

* * *

_“We’ll still be okay, right?” Hinata blurts suddenly. They’re lying on their backs, staring at the white ceiling from their position on Hinata’s bedroom floor, having long given up on completing their homework. Practice had been tough that day, and the weariness was beginning to seep into their bones. “Like, even if we doesn’t work out, we’ll still be friends?”_

_Kageyama wrinkles his nose. “Why the fuck wouldn’t we work out?”_

_“I— Fuck, that’s not what I meant.” He sighs then sits up, pulling his legs to his chest and resting his chin atop his knees. “Just in case, you know? Some weird shit could happen then we aren’t together anymore, and—” Hinata pauses, fumbling with the words that threaten to spill from his mouth in a word vomit. “Promise me. Even if we aren’t_ together _-together, we’ll still be there for each other.”_

_“Tch.” Kageyama grabs Hinata, pulling him down to the floor again and wrapping the smaller boy inside of a warm embrace. “Don’t be such a dumbass. Of course I will.”_

_“Thanks, Kageyama.”_

_“Tobio.”_

_“Hm?”_

_“My name is Tobio.”_

* * *

Kageyama has friends—the kind he’ll meet up with at least once a month, if possible, and spontaneously text to check if they’re alright, albeit disguised under some other reason. He has a group chat with his teammates, and whenever he checks it, there’s always some mix of legitimate strategies and the most recent meme. Hell, he even has acquaintances that he’ll wave to if he ever sees them around town. (But he does not have a _best friend_ or a _boyfriend_. He lost both of those in the same mistake.)

Kageyama is not lonely by any definition of the word, but that doesn’t explain why he looks around his apartment and feels so utterly alone that the weight of it threatens to make him fall to his knees. He’s had a hard day, and just standing here in the dark without turning the lights on, stillness covering the room and silence stifling the noise, is making everything _so much worse_. It’s suffocating, and it feels a lot like drowning, like the shadows around him are inky black waters that rush into his lungs. Everything—every day, every face, every movement—is the same as the previous, and there’s a tedious monotony that he can’t seem to escape. Like he’s trapped inside his own personal hamster wheel, damned to run the same course over and over and over until he fades away into nothingness. It’s so hard to just _breathe_ , and the tears slip out of his eyes faster than he can roughly wipe them off with his palm.

“ _Tch_ ,” he mutters to himself lowly, “ _don’t be such a weakling._ ”

But that’s all Kageyama has ever been in all areas outside of volleyball—weak.

* * *

_"It’s_ _okay to cry, you know,” Hinata says. It’s in a softer voice than Kageyama has ever heard from the ace before, and he’d comment on the obvious pity in the orange-haired boy’s voice if he didn’t feel so goddamn awful. “Feeling sad doesn’t make you weak.”_

_Kageyama curls further into himself, letting Hinata rub small circles into the small of his back. His voice is like the sun spearing through rain clouds, and Kageyama basks in the warmth of it all. There’s nothing sexual about their position—his head on Hinata’s lap, both of them sprawled across the setter’s bed—but there’s something infinitely more intimate about it. Like he’s baring his soul, everything he is, and asking Hinata to stay despite the barren ugliness of it all._

_“I think you’re brave for being able to show this side of you to someone else,” he continues. “Even if it’s only me.”_

_Kageyama stills. “What are you talking about?”_

_Hinata snorts, and for some odd reason, warmth floods Kageyama’s chest. There’s something adorable about the face Karasuno’s ace pulls, but there’s self-loathing mixed in his expression too. (That’s the easiest for Kageyama to find. He sees it every time his gaze catches a mirror.) “I’m not much, Tobio.”_

_“More than me, dumbass,” he replies quickly. He’ll do anything to get rid of the bladed look of introspective hatred in Hinata’s eyes—anything._

_When Hinata smiles back at him, it’s small and broken and not entirely healed, but it’s enough for Kageyama. He thinks that his boyfriend is something different, something_ other _than flesh and bone, because there is no way that someone this small could have this much love. There is no way someone human could be this good. Hinata has to be something else, like a lost deity or a shooting star that landed on earth._

_(He doesn’t know it yet, but just because something is holy, it does not mean it is whole.)_

* * *

“Tobio!” Sugawara’s voice is loud in a way that somehow manages to avoid being irritating, waving him over to their table with a bright smile on his face. Daichi is sitting beside his husband-to-be with a look in his eyes that says _holy-shit-I’m-so-in-love-with-you_. Some part of Kageyama wonders if, had things gone differently, he’d be looking at someone like that. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

He smiles in reply, though it’s small and nowhere near as bright as his _senpai_ ’s. It’s easier to smile now, and Kageyama doesn’t look as awkward doing it now as he did when he was in high school. Seasons change, and along with it, so do people. _Maybe, sometimes_ , he thinks bitterly, _people change_ too _much._

“Didn’t have practice today,” he says, taking his jacket off and placing it across the back of the chair before sitting down, “Besides, I wouldn’t miss your bachelor’s party, Sugawara-san.”

“It’s just a dinner,” Sugawara says, “Besides, it’s _Koushi_. You know that”

It’s hard to break the habit that Kageyama has built up for himself of building walls to avoid getting hurt again. It’s absolutely ridiculous, especially since he’s known Sugawara for nearly ten years, but he still has to make a conscious effort not to do it anyway.

“Oi, Kageyama!” Tanaka hits Kageyama on the back in a friendly display of camaraderie. “Nice to see you.”

He replies with something bland and generic that seems to satisfy Ryūnosuke enough that the baldy turns to excitedly prattle along with Nishinoya, but Kageyama’s eyes scan the filled seats with a bubbling sort of mix between panic and anticipation. But there isn’t any orange to be seen anywhere. (He can’t tell if the fact comforts or depresses him.)

“His plane was delayed,” Sugawara whispers, so softly that no one but the two of them can hear. “He won’t land in Tokyo until tomorrow, but...he’ll definitely be at the wedding.”

Kageyama blinks. “How…?”

“You had this look,” Sugawara says, a sad and melancholy smile adorning his face, “like you were missing something you haven’t had in a long time.”

* * *

_There are only three certainties in the universe for Kageyama, the list of it fitting so nicely in his rhetoric that he could practically see it in his mind’s eye. Everything else seems so lackluster and ephemeral in comparison, and he can’t help use the concreteness as a sort of safety blanket._

_One — He is a setter. There are very few things that compare to the feeling of the surety of the ball, slipping perfectly into the niche of his palms and launching off his fingertips. While he’ll be in any position in order to play, setter is where he does best._

_Two — His personality is abrasive and sometimes outright rude. Oftentimes, he forgets to take others’ strengths and weaknesses into consideration in the attempt to score a point. There was a time when there was no one there to hit his toss._

_Three — Hinata will be there. In the end, Hinata is always there._

* * *

Kageyama shuffles uncomfortably in his tuxedo, the stifling atmosphere threatening to suffocate him. There are too many people in the shrine, and it’s much too hot with all of the decorations. It’s a nice mix between a traditional Shinto wedding and a more Western one, a compromise between Daichi’s old-fashioned parents and Sugawara’s decidedly more progressive family. Surprisingly, Sugawara had chosen Oikawa as his best man, while Daichi had picked Asahi.

Glancing around, Kageyama realizes that quite a few of the people here are from their high school years. Their _Karasuno_ years. It makes him wonder how strange and different their lives would have been without the sport, how empty.

Every flash of orange makes his chest hurt, his heart clenching in an odd amalgam of desperation and excitement, and he wonders if he’s always been this pathetic. But there’s an empty seat two places to Kageyama’s left, past Tanaka and Nishinoya’s joking laughter, with Shōyō’s name written in fancy calligraphy on a tiny white notecard, and just looking at it opens the deluge of confusion that sits low in Kageyama’s stomach.

“ _Gomenasai_ , Daichi-kun, Koushi-kun. I got stuck in traffic on the way here.”

“That’s alright, Shouyou,” Daichi says, “You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

Kageyama is _so_ fucked.

* * *

_His phone rings from its place on the kitchen counter, surrounded by textbooks and paper. The name_ Hinata Shōyō _flashes across the screen in big white letters, and Kageyama scrambles to pick it up._

_“Hello?”_

_There’s a shifting on the other side of the line. “Oh shit. I forgot to ask if you were busy studying for finals.”_

_“No, it’s fine,” he replies, rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes with the back of a hand. “Just bored out of my mind doing Japanese history. What’s up?”_

_“I did it!” Hinata exclaims brightly. Kageyama can hear the grin in Hinata’s tone. “I got my acceptance letter for Tokai U! It came in the mail today.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yeah.” A heartbeat of silence. “Holy shit. I really did it.”_

_Kageyama glances to the opened envelope sitting a few feet away, a full-ride scholarship to Tokyo University sitting inside as an invitation to play volleyball for the school. More than 1000 kilometers away from Tokai, sitting all the way in Hokkaido. More than 1000 kilometers away from_ Hinata _._

_Something heavy gathers in his throat, and Kageyama tries his best to swallow down that growing feeling of despair as he says, “You worked hard for it. Of course you did.”_

* * *

“Tob— Er...Kageyama? Is that you?”

He turns around, the sight of orange hair stopping Kageyama’s heart inside of his chest. It’s been five years since they’ve last seen each other, but this is wrong— _so wrong._ They should have been together here, laughing and holding hands and dodging questions about their own wedding, but instead they’re standing with two feet between them that feel like miles. It could have been a complete stranger for all the nonexistent familiarity between the two of them.

It should have been _Tobio_ , not _Kageyama_.

“Hey,” he says, lifting a hand in a small, sad excuse of a wave and trying his best to keep his composure.

Hinata smiles. It’s as bright as the sun, and Kageyama’s just the shadow chasing after him. “How have you been?”

The bitter side of him wants to say, _You would know if you hadn’t left._ But he can’t. Even after all this time, Kageyama can’t bring himself to despise Hinata for the way their relationship had crumbled.

“Good.”

It’s a measly half-truth, but he’s unable to gather up the courage to live in complete honesty. One part of him wants to keep their conversation going in the hopes that even if their relationship hadn’t thrived, maybe Kageyama could get his best friend back. The other part just wants to leave, to run away from his problems like he had before, anything to stop the hurt that pooled in the center of his chest.

“Um...Well, it was good seeing you, Kageyama-kun,” Hinata says, rubbing his arm awkwardly as their momentum sputters out. “I think I saw Yacchan and Kenma-kun over there. I’m gonna go say hi.”

And just like the last time, Kageyama lets him walk away.

* * *

_When Hinata had first left for Sapporo, they’d called each other every night. Now, they were lucky to get one every two weeks. The work had just steadily piled on, and the strict curriculum and rigorous volleyball practice hadn’t left much time for socializing. The first time they speak outside of the occasional text in over two months is for their break: a planned, weeklong trip for the original members of the original Karasuno team back in Miyagi._

_On the last day there, just before they go their separate ways into different cars and planes and trains, Hinata walks up to Kageyama. “Er...Can I talk to you?”_

_It doesn’t strike him as anything odd, so he says, “Yeah. Sure.”_

_They walk to a secluded area, Hinata fiddling with his fingers on the entire walk there._

_“Listen,” he says, “I think we should, you know…. Take a break.”_

_“What.”_

_“Just until the summer,” Hinata continues, his voice soft. As if he were afraid of breaking Kageyama. “We’re too busy at the moment to maintain a relationship. I mean, we’ve barely talked since last April.”_

_“I guess.”_

_“Okay.” Hinata nods, something like disappointment shining in his eyes as he leaves but Kageyama doesn’t know why. Wasn’t this what he wanted?_

* * *

Kageyama _knows_ he’ll have one hell of a hangover the following morning, but there’s an open tab on the alcohol and he’s got a lot of problems he wants to forget.

“Isn’t that your third sake bomb, Bakageyama?” Tsukishima walks up to the bar with his hands in his pockets and his expression questioning, but something like worry lines his all-seeing stare. “You know you’re going to regret this tomorrow, right? No matter _how_ crazy good your alcohol tolerance is.”

“Hmm.”

Tsukishima sighs and sits down at the stool beside him, calling the bartender over. “A shot of your best.”

Kageyama doesn’t question it. Not after the tentative camaraderie they’d formed after all-nighters and bitching about professors together in the library. But even after all of that, they still refuse to move further than a last name basis, like they’re subtly trying to deny their friendship. “What are you doing here, Tsukishima-kun?”

“You looked like you were having an absolute blast standing over here and being an antisocial loner, so I thought I’d give it a try,” he replies smoothly. Despite his acerbic tone, he meaning is something like, _I know you saw Hinata earlier, and I wanted to make sure you were okay._

“I’m having the time of my life,” Kageyama tells him with equal sarcasm. _Thanks for checking up on me._

“Well that’s absolutely _great_ ,” he says, picking up the shot glass and sipping at the vodka. “But just to warn you, Hinata’s walking this way.”

* * *

_“I think he misses you,” Yachi says over a bowl of ramen, chopsticks flailing around as she waves her hand with every word she speaks._

_Kageyama picks at the karaage he’d ordered and feigns idiocy. “Who?”_

_“You_ know _who, Tobio-kun. He still asks about you.” Her tone is soft, gentle, like Kageyama is an easily-scared animal she’s found in the wild._

_“He’s the one that left, Yachi. Not me.”_

* * *

“Oh! Kageyama-kun,” Hinata’s voice is slurred and his walk slightly swaying as he walks toward Kageyama. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“You have? Why?”

“Just to catch up,” he says, “What’s going on in your life at the moment?”

“Um, well, we’re training for Nationals.” _Dumbass_ , he thought, _Hinata probably was too._

He laughs. “That’s nice.”

The silence that falls on them is awkward and sticky, like a blanket he just can’t seem to quite get rid of. It’s the loudest quiet Kageyama has ever heard. That is, before he decides to break it.

It must be true about what they say about liquid courage, because Kageyama suddenly speaks up. “Why didn’t we work out? We were so good together, and then….and then nothing. Why—” His voice cracks, and he takes a moment to focus on not breaking down. “Why did you have to _leave_?”

“I—”

“ _What?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Hinata admits.

“You don’t know,” Kageyama repeats dumbly, too shocked at the confession to say much else. He’s had a broken heart for this long, and all Hinata can say to explain it is _I don’t know_. Bullshit.

“I was stupid, _so_ stupid,” Hinata says, staring into his glass of whiskey, “and I should have done something other than what I did. I should have talked to you about it or asked you or done literally _anything other_ than break up with you, because I regret it more than I’ve ever regretted anything in my entire life. And I am so sorry for that.”

Kageyama takes a shaky breath. He’s had years to think about what he’d say if he ever got this opportunity again, but he still can’t find the right words to say. “I— I’m sorry too. I should have tried harder to get you to stay. _Called_  at the very least.”

Hinata raises his glass high up towards the stars, the sheen of it glinting against the light of the moon, and smiles ruefully. “Maybe we were both wrong.”

* * *

_Kageyama isn’t the brightest or most hardworking student, but after the split, no one could say his sudden academic excellency was undeserved. He’d thrown himself into studying, ignoring the mind-numbing torture of sitting in front of textbooks for hours on end, and got straight Bs. And when he was tired of that, he dove headfirst into volleyball, losing himself in jump serves and giving the spiker a perfect toss._

_But eventually even that hurt too much. Because sometimes, when his hands touch the ball, his mind sees a flash of orange and all he can think of are the headlines of Karasuno’s Insane Quick across volleyball magazines. Because the court without Hinata is far too colorless and cold, and Kageyama can’t stand it._

* * *

It’s a soft groan and harsh sun that wakes Kageyama up, and his hand shoots to block his eyes from the offensive light that makes his headache worse. The only good thing about it is the warmth, he thinks as he pulls the covers back over himself.

“ _Watch it, asshole. I need some too._ ”

His eyes widen, and he immediately sits up. Just as he’d suspected, Hinata lay beside him on the bed, eyes closed and mumbling. _Holy fuck. Had they...?_ No, they were both still wearing their clothes. Running a hand through his hair, Kageyama closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting himself live inside this pocket of heaven for just a few more seconds before standing up and making sure he has his phone before he leaves.

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

Hinata has a single eye cracked open, fear and hope all muddled together in that single expression, and it shatters Kageyama’s resolve in a single blow.

He sighs and walks back over to the bed, shifting under the covers and pulling Hinata close. “I guess not.”

**Author's Note:**

> ayyyy this is Bad but whatever
> 
> tumblr: [ka-geyama](http://ka-geyama.tumblr.com/)


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